Music in the park on a sunny afternoon

Barcelona wasn't exactly warm that afternoon, and in the shade of the trees many people zipped up their light jackets, but as long as you were walking in the sunshine, the temperature in Park Guell could not have been more perfect.

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I was in the minority in short sleeves, just another tourist who had to pay to gain access to the steps of the wonderful complex at the park's lower main entrance.

From the famous lizard partway up the steps

to the mosaics on the ceiling of the structure

it sang with color and with Gaudi's genius.

The view of the city from atop the structure gave way to the Mediterranean in the distance,

while the walkways under the neighboring overhangs transported you inside the skeleton of a beast long vanished.

Up and up the breath-stealing steps led, until I reached the top and surrendered to the curving paths, which wound me once again downward.

In a corridor not far from the bottom, a lone violinist played a song I could not name but vaguely recognized.

I moved closer and leaned against a rock wall just outside his setup.  I closed my eyes.  The sun's hands on my face were as soft and gentle and warming and loving as a mother's embrace of her baby.  The music filled my heart to the point that--and this is the sentimental, silly truth of me--I thought I might not be capable of containing the pure, wordless, unburdened joy of that moment.

If I have ever given a reader that much joy, for even a single instant, then I have done at least one thing of wonder.

I remained there, utterly still, eyes closed, for I know not how long, and then the music stopped, my heart released its control, and I opened my eyes and walked on.

A perfect Barcelona moment.

Gaudi's last house commission

After Gaudi's success with Casa Batllo, which I hope to see tomorrow, the Mila family commissioned him to build from scratch a home and building that was to be more ornate, bigger, and just more in every way than Casa Batllo.  The result was Casa Mila, which was so far out that people started ridiculing it with the name "La Pedrera," the stone quarry.

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Gaudi was right, and the critics of his day were wrong.  Since that time, La Pedrera, which I visited today, has become a widely acknowledged masterpiece, with UNESCO declaring it a World Heritage Site in 1984.

I absolutely loved what the tour allowed us to see of the building.  (Much of it is off-limits, because people still live there, and some businesses operate out of it.)  From the stairways in one of the two inner courtyards,

to the view upward in that same courtyard,

to the arches of the attic,

the building embodies Gaudi's obsessions with nature, mathematics, and God.

The roof, with its eerie collection of figures, each both striking and serving a useful function,

and its undulating surface, a waveform that evokes the ocean, struck me particularly powerfully.

I chose to wedge this visit to La Pedrera between my first work partial day (at Mobile World Congress) and my second (email), and though that choice cost me sleep, I am very glad I made it.

When the Mila family disliked his creation, Gaudi swore off home commissions and focused all of his creative energies on La Sagrada Familia.  I understand and appreciate that choice, but I am very glad that he first created the wonderful La Pedrera.

A trip I need to make in 13 years

Long-time readers may recall that I am a huge fan of the work of Spanish architect and genius Antoni Gaudi.  I particularly love his La Sagrada Familia cathedral, which I saw first with Scott on our trip to Barcelona when he was 16.  The building has been under construction for a very long time, but now the builders are claiming they will finish it--meaning, finish all that Gaudi meant it to be--by 2026.  Though I don't honestly believe they will complete the construction by then, I hope they do, because I very much want to see the final structure.

Check out this video to see a rendering of Gaudi's vision.  Amazing, breathtaking, inspiring, weird, organic, math-based genius.



I know I'll be 71 in 2026, but I still want to make that trip.

On the road again: Barcelona, day 3

Jamon Iberico de Bellota is a wonderful thing indeed, and as I did my last time here, I'm eating small amounts of it each time I get the chance. Today, this taste treat was part of both my meals, lunch and dinner, and I loved every little bite.

A big chunk of today went to more time with the works of Antoni Gaudi, about whose art I've written before. Suffice to say that once again I found La Sagrada Familia amazing, a work of genius, and deeply moving in many ways. The singular vision behind both it and Parc Guell, which I also revisited today, always makes me think hard about creativity, great works of art, and, of course, my own pale attempts at creation. Gaudi was almost certainly more than a bit of a loon, but he saw the world differently from everyone else and, as Hunter S. Thompson once said of another, he stomped the terra.

Tomorrow brings the dinner at El Bulli, the event that transformed this trip from desirable to mandatory. I'm not looking forward to driving the crowded Barcelona streets or the single-lane country roads that lead to the restaurant, but I am quite excited about the meal itself--which I'll be sitting down to eat in about 17 hours.

Hot damn!